


Look around and smile because I’ve got your back

by orphan_account



Category: Gintama
Genre: GinZuraWeek2016, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-09-02 06:28:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8654302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: If Gintoki is hope, Katsura is faith. If Gintoki is a general, then Katsura is his left hand. As long as you are with me, we will be alright.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For GinZura Week, day 1: "In a crisis"
> 
> Enjoy !!

_**1.    Waves.** _

He protects his comrades, his sword slashing its enemies without mercy. A devil in the battlefield, the Shiroyasha is worshipped amongst the resistance; chants of victory at the utterance of his title.

The general runs and jumps, his soul screaming for everything to end. He begs for the next day to not be painted with crimson and dirt. The demon is at the front, where it is just lonely and his effort is just not enough; because the public wants more and the monstrous forms of his adversaries focus on him one second and ignore him the next. He cannot rest. 

The Shiroyasha scrapes and kicks through the weight of his responsibilities, but nothing gets better and the food is still the same that the one of a month ago. They still have to beg. They pray either for life or death to embrace them. They must keep one eye open at night like bats. No place is home and it is never their turn to laugh.

_As long as the Shiroyasha is with us, we won’t fall_ , they sing.

_Don’t get close to Shiroyasha: he could snap one day_ , others suggest.

With victories and respect, fear is also born. Humble families close their doors in front of his face. Mothers identify snow like hair and force their pace like if seeing a ghost.

With crimson and dirt comes black. The cold feeling of loneliness. The intimidating barrier between him and the rest of his comrades; the dark shadows of where the other generals could be: either outside of this world, shouting thirsty words of lunacy in front of an army, or running away while protecting from the distance.

With them come the memories of raven hair with cherry blossom petals on it and the melancholy wishing he can see said picture again tomorrow.

The Shiroyasha acts with blind instinct and eyes covered, loved by many and feared by more. He walks following a greater entity’s melody, not looking for answers but asking for a single sign of his former self. 

And then Zura comes with his elegant figure and his trust and Gintoki feels almost foreign to it, like if that Zura is not the real one.

And then Zura makes rice balls for him and touches his cheek lovingly and Gintoki just rests his head on his shoulder.

Zura scolds him and calls him _Gintoki_. And Gintoki is human once more.

* * *

_**2\. Surface.** _

They are back to back like they always were. Zura doesn’t complain: they have been through a lot together in the past and even now, when they have a disadvantage of a hundred against two. He won’t cry, for it is a samurai’s duty to protect what he believes in.

He calculates and examines all the possibilities and the path in front of him turns blurry and silent. It is only his breathing, himself, and the warm sensation behind him left.

They should have listened to sensei. Maybe they would have lived a long life outside of the idea of revenge. They could have welcomed the changing times with open arms and lived as another people, but in peace.

_What a useless thought_ , he thinks.

Living in a world full of Amanto? He is usually called a coward, but not that type of coward. Living with the guilt of knowing they could have saved sensei? The world would become unbearable. Neither his comrades or him will accept defeat before having given their best first. 

He is glad for the days shared until now and his ability to love the one next to him; but his legs do not want to move anymore, his lungs are at their limit and the Noble Youth of Madness thinks that, for the first time, he has no possibilities of escaping.

That’s why he accepts it. If he has to die, he will rather do it in the middle of the battlefield and next to the precious comrade he trusts.

He sees the Amanto come after them, getting closer. But the least he can do as a warrior is to leave as he wants and not let those bastards tear him apart. He speaks to Gintoki, tired and breathing fast. Not a single school, book or map can prepare him for the army ready to throw their weapons at the two young men; he negotiates with Gintoki, expecting Gintoki to agree with him as always.

Instead Gintoki is stronger and stands up, ordering him to do the same. He talks about hope, about another day, about a beautiful future.

Zura looks back and stares at the gorgeous stained white and at that back he has admired the most since his childhood days.

_His general…_  

They survive the fight he doesn’t know how. His brain just remembers he is walking, covered in blood, hanging on to Gintoki until their legs give up and scream at them, they fall to the grass and smell the freshness of spring.  

Being alive feels like a dream. Breathing feels new and the tears coming out of his eyes are strange. 

But Gintoki is next to him smiling like an idiot and his heart beats faster. If Gintoki felt fear or doubt at any moment is something he will never know for sure. 

Gintoki touches one strand of long straight hair softly and Zura just believes in that hand. They will be alright.

* * *

**_3\. Light._ **

They fly together above the wide sea in silence. They have a lot to think about Takasugi and sensei. Zura is saved thanks to their old temple book, while Gintoki threw that book away after staining it with soup.

Both fall close to the shore, with dampened clothes walking to solid ground.

Zura squeezes out his hair and clothes, but strong arms surrounding him from behind do not allow the man to continue. He looks back with a tired face.

“Gintoki, we need to go. Shinpachi and Leader must be waiting for you,” he reminds him but the perm head just won’t let him go.

“No,” Gintoki says. _Not after that bastard of Nizou caressed Katsura’s silky hair all over his face._ Not after days of knowing nothing and after the adrenaline of fighting side by side for the first time in years.

He believes in Katsura the most. He truly does. But the possibility is there, even if it is thin; and Gintoki feels lonely at times, no matter how expressionless his eyes may seem.

Katsura turns around and his hand is on Gintoki’s back, reassuring.

_Gintoki, I’m still here,_  he whispers close to his ear.


End file.
